


Watching

by Chippa



Category: Callan (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 06:02:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20484062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chippa/pseuds/Chippa
Summary: Callan knew he should leave but the sight in front of him was disturbingly arousing.Callan witnesses something he wasn't expecting.





	Watching

**Author's Note:**

> While I was bored at work today I suddenly had a mental image of voyeur Callan watching Meres and this story was born.
> 
> Written roughly in a couple of hours this evening, this is the result :)

WATCHING.

Callan hated paperwork. Endless piles of the stuff, enough to keep the bureaucratic machine fed for years. Still his overlords expected him to produce more.

The joys of being a _‘civil servant’_ he supposed bitterly. No matter what else may happen to you, make sure you document it all – in bloody triplicate. Just so it can be filed away neatly, in a file probably marked _Most Secret_ and never read anyway. He sometimes thought he hated them for that as much as anything else in his squalid life.

It had been a slow few weeks. The opposition were behaving themselves at the moment. The East Germans hadn’t done anything aggressive in ages, content it seemed to watch their own people rather than meddle in outside politics, and to be honest, Callan was bored. His paperwork was more about expense reports and so on; justifying just why the government needed to spend so much on ammunition and other assorted necessities this month. Not even anything remotely interesting, just endless dull figures. 

Looking up at the clock on the far side of his office, Callan groaned aloud. 20:25. Normal people would be home by now. They’d have their feet up and reading the paper, or sat in front of the telly. Normal people would be down the pub or out on the town chatting up birds. Not still sat here writing this nonsense.

He bet Meres wouldn’t still be here on a Friday night and he knew Hunter sure as hell wouldn’t be. No, he’d be at his club, probably drinking brandy or port or something - the posh git.

He’d stay until nine, Callan decided and if he wasn’t finished by then, sod it, it’d get finished tomorrow and Hunter would just have to lump it. Getting back to his work he realised he was missing the requisition forms he needed. 

There was no getting round it, he’d have to make a trip down to records and get them. The civil service was just as bad as the army, they expected you to do the bloody job, but if you didn’t have the right requisition form then you had no chance of getting anywhere or anything. Bloody records, that was the last place he wanted to go at this time of night. You can guarantee the place would be empty by now and he didn’t feel like trudging down three flights of stairs to the basement, just to have to root around in some filing cabinet trying to find what he needed without any help. Still he didn’t have any choice, and the sooner he got the bloody form, the sooner he could be done with it all and go home.

To his surprise the light was on in the records room when he got down there. Maybe his luck was in and there was someone there after all, someone who could help him find what he was looking for.

Callan had his hand on the door handle and was just about to go in when he heard a thud. He paused, listening intently for a moment before easing the door open quietly and slipping inside.

The room before him had twin aisles of filing cabinets lining the walls about four or five feet apart. In the centre of the room were two rectangular tables with chairs; two either side; for reading files at Callan supposed. What caught his eye though were the two figures on the far side of the room, opposite the door that Callan had come in by. One was tall and slender with dark hair, the other was a couple of inches shorter and was blonde. They looked vaguely familiar, though Callan couldn’t see who they were from his position by the door. The young blonde one had pushed the dark haired man up against the filing cabinet – that’s what the thud had been, he thought.

Keeping low and using the filing cabinets for cover, Callan moved closer to the pair. He didn’t know their intentions, and it seemed highly unlikely that anyone could get in here that shouldn’t be here but he was taking no chances. He wanted to figure out what the hell was going on before confronting anybody.

As he was stealthily creeping forward he heard another thud to his left followed by what sounded like a moan. His vision was partially obscured by the filing cabinet he was hiding behind, but he could clearly hear a very familiar upper class voice saying “Down on your knees, I’ve been thinking about your pretty lips all day”. At this command the blonde guy dropped to his knees and Callan heard the rasp of a zip being opened.

“Jesus Christ”, thought Callan. “It’s bloody Toby Meres. Just what sort of sordid game have I walked into here. I wonder who the hell that is with him”. Risking a quick peek around the side of the filing cabinet he tried to identify the younger man, all he saw however was a shock of blonde hair as the mans face was currently buried in Meres’ crotch.

Callan crouched in his hiding place, sweating. He was trying to tune out the noises he could hear coming from across the room, but it wasn’t easy. Quiet slurping sounds and soft moans could be heard, and when he risked another look he almost wished he hadn’t. The image of that blonde head bobbing up and down, lips stretched wide around Meres’ thick cock would be seared into his brain forever. It was disturbingly arousing.

He’d been in some strange situations before but this one was bloody bizarre! Here he was, crouched in the basement of section headquarters and no more than six feet away was Toby bloody Meres getting a blow job from some pretty boy, most probably his latest trainee. “Think Callan old son, how the hell are you going to get out of this one”.

He could just stand up he supposed. Say, “Hi Toby, just came in for some paperwork” and leave the way he came. Meres probably wouldn’t even care if he was honest. He’d probably come out with some stupid joke about on the job training or something, and carry on regardless. Knowing Toby, he’d might even ask Callan to join them, in an effort to embarrass him.

Safer to stay here he reasoned. Sneak out when they’re distracted, or better yet wait until it’s all over and he could escape. Wait until he could go home and drink the sights and sounds away with some cheap whiskey. Most definitely _not_ dwell on the image of that pretty mouth and prettier cock. “Shit” he thought, as his cock twitched, “that shouldn’t be arousing”.

Well that put paid to just standing up and walking out. He didn’t fancy explaining to either of them why he had a hard on. “He was _not_ getting turned on by the sight of a rumpled Toby Meres _thank you very much,_ and the blondes he preferred all had boobs, not balls”.

The noises were getting louder now, and so much harder to ignore. The breathy moans Meres was making in contrast to the obscene wet sucking noises he could hear. “Surely it couldn’t be much longer now” Callan thought, his cock hard and aching in his trousers. Suddenly it all went quiet and blondie was ordered to stand up. Callan shifted his position once more, craning his neck to peer round the metal he was crouching behind

Meres had turned round so he was face first against the filing cabinet he’d been leaning against. He had his trousers and pants down around his ankles, and his trainee; who Callan could now see was the new guy, Bill Turner, was coating his cock with something slick. “I want you to fuck me William”, said Meres in that smooth voice of his. Callan shivered at the sound of it, it was like liquid velvet. His cock was begging for relief and the sight of Bill Turners glistening cock slowly disappearing inside Toby’s puckered arsehole had Callan biting his tongue. Meres seemed to be holding his breath as his trainee slowly pushed inside but as soon as he was fully in he groaned deeply.

“That’s it William” growled Meres. “Fuck me hard, make me really feel it”. This was something the two had obviously done before as Turner didn’t need telling twice. He set up a fast pace, thrusting deeply into Meres and pushing him hard against the metal drawers with each movement of his hips.

The sound of Meres’ hips moving against the filing cabinet as his eager trainee thrust into him wasn’t the only noise in the room. Meres’ voice was just a constant stream of “ah” and “yes”, “harder” and “just there”. “He obviously thinks no one’s around”, thought Callan, “he’s not even trying to be quiet”.

By this point Callan had given up all pretence of trying not to listen anymore. He shoved his hand down his trousers, rubbing at his cock in time to their thrusts. He tried his best to be quiet, but judging from the noises coming from in front of him he had a feeling he could have fired his weapon and no one would have noticed.

From his vantage point roughly six feet to the right of the pair, he could see everything. Turner’s cock disappearing and reappearing as he thrust inside Meres. Meres pushed painfully against the filing cabinet as he was pounded endlessly. His cock was grasped tightly in his hand and a look of ecstasy was on his face, the gasps and moans all running into one long jumble. Toby’s dark hair was plastered to his face with sweat and Callan suddenly had the urge to reach out and push it back from his face.

With this strange new desire upon him Callan came hard, biting at his fist to try and muffle the bitten off groan he couldn’t help but make. Meres, who until now had been pumping his cock, eyes closed, now suddenly opened them and then came with a sigh. Turner gave a last few thrusts, hips stuttering as he came deep inside Meres with a shout, and then slumped tiredly across his back.

It wasn’t long before Meres shrugged his handsome trainee aside and told him, “be a good boy, and run on home. Training is over for the day, dear William and although you performed perfectly well today” he said with a smirk “tomorrow is another day, and we can’t let the standards slip, now can we”. Bending over to retrieve his trousers as he said this gave Callan a perfect view of Toby’s pert backside. “There is always someone else around” he said, glancing around the room with a thoughtful look on his face, as he buckled his belt. “Always some kind of competition, therefore we must keep practising”. Walking towards the door he followed his trainee out of the room and up the stairs. As he closed the door on Callan and the now empty room he said quietly, “maybe the same time again tomorrow”?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm undecided on whether Toby knew Callan was there or merely suspected. Up to the reader to decide for themselves I guess.


End file.
